Harry had not recognised the shard of glass that he had yanked out of his shin after the destruction of the Room of Requirement. The shard hadn't cost him more than a little blood, the wound completely forgotten until the next morning. Harry had been rummaging through his neck pouch after he had left Dumbledore's office to see if it still retained all its contents. The presence of more than one piece of rough edged glass had at first been a matter of confusion for him until he had remembered. The piece of the bloody shard, seemingly unimportant in looks had emitted a vibe too conspicuous to be anything but magical, and surprisingly enough, something familiar. And so, Harry had stored it hurriedly in the moleskin pouch around his neck.
After their conversation at the headmaster's office, Harry had asked Ron and Hermione to return to the Great Hall without him. It had been a silent plea for them to understand his need for privacy. Luckily, Ron and Hermione had been easily convinced and had parted from him with questions regarding his health and promises from him to find them if any problem arose. Harry, finding himself feeling very eager to be in company of none but his own thoughts, had agreed to their demands without a second thought.
Harry had then pulled on his invisibility cloak, immediately, not willing to be hoarded and stalked for congratulations. It was then, as Harry mindlessly wondered around the corridors of Hogwarts, that he had the sudden impulse to check his pouch. His main intention had been to check the movements of the castle's current inhabitants on the Marauders map but it seemed that that would have to wait for now.
The shard had been covered with dried blood, which, disgustingly enough had smeared the other contents of his pouch in blood as well. Harry settled for a quick scorgify and the shard of glass shone as good as new. He would worry about the pouch later. He then placed the shard on his palm and gazed at the reflective object with a frown. It wasn't a glass, Harry realised after a moment. It was a mirror, a broken piece of a........No way!
The realisation of the shard's true origins surprised Harry so much that he almost dropped it in shock. It wasn't just any mirror to whom this shard had belonged. Not an ordinary mirror at all, but one of the most enchanted, accursed one that Harry had ever come across. As if instinctively, the image of a elegant reflector appeared in his mind that had risen high to the ceiling of an empty classroom; framed in an ornamental case of gold with an inscription etched upon the top of it in a language that Harry had been unable to comprehend, it was one of the most aristocrat pieces of work he had ever looked upon. Harry still remembered that night of his first year as if it had been but yesterday, for who could ever forget the Mirror of Erised after having experienced it's pleasures.
Harry had not seen the mirror since then, and as he had promised Dumbledore, he had never tried to seek it out again. Remembering what he had seen in the mirror still made him smile, feeling wistful yet bitter. Harry gazed eagerly at the shard now, his hands trembling almost inconspicuously as he dreaded, yet anticipated what the deepest darkest desire of his heart would be.
The shard seemed to be enclosing the properties of the entire mirror in its mutilated form, which Harry hadn't thought would be possible. He had been proved wrong well enough when he had held the shard to his face and had stared at it with an almost hungry look on his face.
Instead of seeing the magnified image of his own face, Harry saw his parents standing side by side in the mirror. Lily and James Potter were beaming at him, their eyes filled with pride.
"You've been so brave love." Harry heard his mother's voice resonate in his mind .
But Lily and James were not the only ones who Harry now saw in the mirror. Right beside his father stood two familiar men. An exceedingly handsome face of a young man in his early thirties grinned at him, eyes dancing with mirth and mischief. Harry couldn't help but smile back, his heart filling with fondness and pain. The other man, though looking older then the man beside him in spite of being the same age, wore the same expression of elation, his smile setting laughter lines around his eyes. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin smiled at him with such alacrity as if they had never been happier.
Harry, having been so consumed with staring at the four most important parental figures in his life, almost missed the presence of another person. Beside Lily Potter stood another red head, Fred Weasley had the same mischievous smirk on his face as he did in life but Harry's heart ached. Because for the first time ever, Fred Weasley couldn't look more unlike his twin brother.
George had turned strangely cold and detached since Fred had died. And from what Ron had told him, he refused to speak to anyone at all. Harry had not spoken to the Weasleys yet, and he wasn't sure how long he would be able to hold it off. He couldn't bare to face George again. He wasn't sure if he would be able to stomach seeing only George, with no Fred beside him. No one would confuse between Fred and George ever again, the thought felt like a punch to his gut.
Harry hadn't realised the presence of wetness on his cheeks until he had raised a hand to rub his face. He stood against a wall, staring helplessly at the broken shard. There was another smaller figure, much smaller, that was standing in front of Fred. Dobby's large tennis ball eyes looked even wider in elation and he had the broadest smile on his little face. And on top of the elf's bald head perched between his bat like ears was his snowy white Hedwig.
Harry smiled at the mirror, at the people who had died because of him. Fred's and Lupin's bodies were still yet to be buried. And Tonks and.....
Harry gazed at the broken shard in silence for he did not knew how long. But instead of making him feel sad and more pained, the image of his deceased loved ones slowly made him feel peace for they all looked so happy. But then, his eyes lingered on Lupin's face. He looked just as tired as he had done in life, just livelier and happier. Thinking of his infant son was almost like feeling a stab in his gut. Teddy Lupin would grow up just like Harry himself had, as an orphan.
Remus and Tonks would never know their son. James and Lily had atleast had a year with Harry before the tragic Halloween of 1981, but Remus and Tonks hardly got a few days. But atleast the young boy would know love. He would be raised by his grandmother with the memories of his parents who did not deserve the end that they had come to. He would be cared for, and he would never go through what Harry had to with the Dursleys. Harry would make sure of it.
Especially since the child had been orphaned because of him.
So many people had died because of him.
Harry stared at the mirror, feeling numb. His insides seemed to have gone void. And he wasn't sure if he preferred this nauseating nothingness to the pain. He gazed at Lupin's smiling face in the mirror, the image blurring slightly due to his tears.
"I'm sorry Remus," he wasn't sure why he said that, but he just needed to apologise. It was his fault, in the end, all his own fault.
But then, something strange happened and the image in the mirror suddenly changed. Harry, startled by the sudden change, watched with a frown as the mirror stood empty, and then, Remus Lupin walked into its sight. Harry gasped. This wasn't the Remus that had died in the Battle few hours ago. This was....a younger Lupin. Resembling most to the Lupin who had arrived as the Defense against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts in his third year. There was wary look in his eyes which was bordering on depression.
Then, the Remus in the picture smiled softly as a young man appeared behind him, looking devilishly handsome with a rogue grin and high cheekbones. This was his godfather. Sirius did not look very young and neither did Lupin, but they looked so happy, as if the twelve years Sirius spent in Azkaban had never happened. Sirius then moved closer to Lupin and wrapped his arms around him. Remus sighed, looking very peaceful, sinking into Sirius's embrace, wrapping his own arms around the other man and moving even closer.
Harry gaped at the image in front of him, eyes wide in shock and astonishment. Had Sirius and Lupin been lovers?! They looked so happy together in the picture. And it took a while for Harry to realise that this shard didn't just show the deepest darkest desire of the person who looked into it, but also the secrets of those who had used it before. This was what Lupin had seen in the Mirror of Erised when he had looked into it around five years ago.
To test his own theory, Harry gazed into the mirror and whispered, "Ronald Weasley," the image of Remus and Sirius blurred, only to be replaced by the image of an eleven year old Ron looking at him in bemusement. Then, the image changed and Harry saw an older looking Ron wearing the badges of Prefect and Quidditch captain, holding a large trophy in his hand while beamed. He was surrounded by all his siblings who looked happy for him and clapped enthusiastically. This was what Ron had seen in the mirror at their first year.
Confirmed of what it did now, Harry held the mirror close to his face and whispered, " Hermione," the image shifted again. However, it remained empty when the movement stilled. Harry frowned confused before realising that it probably did not work because Hermione had never used the Mirror of Erised.
Harry looked around. The corridor he had been in was still deserted but it was open to people who might wonder in here. His invisibility cloak was still in place but Harry wasn't about to take any chances and quietly walked away to a more secluded place, the top of the Astronomy tower. Without pulling the cloak off, Harry sat down on the steps at the top of staircase with his legs crossed and looked at the mirror again.
Without thinking, he whispered, "Draco Malfoy." Harry wasn't sure why he said Malfoy's name but he supposed that having spent so much of his time in the Room of Requirement last year, Malfoy was bound to have come across the enchanted mirror. The mirror fogged, before clearing to reveal an image of a shaking Draco, a frightened look in his watery eyes.
Harry gazed at Malfoy's thin pale face in a feeling very similar to concern, for the Malfoy that stared back at him looked almost as bad as Lupin did. He wondered what the mirror would show him next, the image shifted, and Harry gasped in disbelief. The mirror now showed Voldemort laying on the floor, his snake like eyes unfocused, dead. And Harry saw himself standing over the Dark Lord, victorious. And then he finally saw Draco standing at a distance with his family, looking more relived and happy than Harry had ever seen before.
This was Malfoy's deepest desire? Voldemort's demise? Harry stared at the scene in the mirror, flabbergasted. But then, he finally took a closer look at the Malfoy family. Lucius Malfoy had not been in a good position since the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. Perhaps, it was then that Draco had started to fear, for himself and his family. Draco must have viewed the presence of the Dark Lord as a threat to his own family. Harry remembered the night of Dumbledore's death. It had been right here at the Astronomy tower. Dumbledore had tried to talk Draco out of joining the dark side. And while Harry now understood that Dumbledore had wanted Snape to be the one who killed him, he realised that Dumbledore may have also known about what Draco's true desires were.
Draco may have been a bully in school, but he loved his family most deeply. And though Harry wasn't sure about Lucius Malfoy but his wife Narcissa certainly did love Draco with her entire being, just as a mother should. Just as Lily Potter had loved him. Narcissa lied to Voldemort in the face for the sake of finding her son, in spite of knowing how brutal the consequences of it might be.
Harry sighed before closing his eyes. A part him now was truly glad that the Malfoy's had survived the war. Lucious Malfoy would have to serve a sentence in Azkaban, there was so escaping that, but Harry hoped that Draco and Narcissa might be spared. And now that Harry knew the truth, he would make sure to put in a word himself if he had to. He was sure that his opinion would be taken into consideration. The Ministry owed him that much after all that he had done.
Strangely enough, Harry had recently found himself having mixed feelings regarding his hatred of Draco Malfoy that had existed consistently since his first year. It was a change in thoughts that had started last year when he had seen Draco holding Dumbledore at the point of his wand, when he had finally realised what Draco had been going through. He had been doing what he could to keep his family safe. It had made him question his views about Malfoy's desire of dark arts. Especially after Draco had lied about not recognising him at the Malfoy manor. Harry had known immediately that Draco knew it was him, but the latter had kept quiet. These instances had influenced Harry so much now that he found himself unable to think of Draco Malfoy with the same animosity. The image in the mirror was proof of Draco's unwillingness to be at the Dark side.
Harry made a mental note to find Malfoy afterwards and return his wand back to him. And perhaps an opportunity to have a conversation with the later....
Maybe they could still be friends? Harry was surprised at how much he desired that right now.
He then gazed at the mirror again before whispering another name. However, he doubted that he would find an image here. But he was proven wrong yet again because not a second later, Neville Longbottom stepped into the frame, looking confused. It was a younger Neville, around thirteen? Fourteen? Harry felt his stomach drop for he had already anticipated what he was going to see. Neville's parents appeared behind him in the mirror, smiling warmly at their son. The image was just so painfully similar to the one from Harry's first year that he could not bring himself to look at it for more then a few moments. But Harry did see an empty chocolate wrapper clutched in Neville's hand before he turned his face away from the mirror.
Frank and Alice Longbottom had suffered through the most torturous life. And Neville's childhood too had not been any more pleasant than Harry's own. Recalling the death of Bellatrix Lestrange now gave him a very grim pleasure.
Taking a few deep breaths, Harry cleared his head of his memories and thought of another name. He thought of Sirius but he doubted if Sirius had looked into the Mirror of Erised ever. But thinking of Sirius made Harry think of Lupin again. Harry started to remember, as if subconsciously, all the interactions he had ever seen between Sirius and Lupin and was shocked to realise that he wasn't very surprised. There had always been a different sort of intimacy between them. But Harry had always dismissed them to be the reconciliation of two old school friends who hadn't seen each in years. Sirius and Lupin had given him a joint Christmas gift in his fifth year for God's sake!
Maybe they had been preparing to reveal their relationship to him, and were hoping to do so at an easy pace, starting with that joint Christmas present?
Had Tonks known? Had she known any of it before pursuing Lupin? And then, Harry remembered how Tonks had grown morse after Sirius's death. Perhaps she had known it all and had only revealed her feelings to Lupin after Sirius's death.
And Lupin had never really been visibly happy after getting married to Tonks, had he? Perhaps it was not all because of his worries of passing his werewolf genes to his child. Infact, the only time Harry had seen Remus truly happy after Sirius's death was when he had stumbled into the Shell Cottage announcing the birth of his son. Had Lupin ever really returned Tonks' affections?
Harry found that he wasn't sure if wanted to know the answer to that. But he couldn't help remember the scene by Bill Weasley's bed at the Hospital wing around a year ago. Tonks had been the one in love with Lupin, but Lupin had interacted with her without any distress. If he had really not returned Tonks' affections, why consent to marry her? Maybe it had been a move from guilt? Tonks had suffered with her metamorphic powers for an entire year, she had lost her cheerful personality and turned into a dull and morse being, even her patronas had changed form to match Moony. Tonks may not have pressured Lupin, but these factors seemed to have done so involuntarily.
Lupin had believed that by marrying Tonks he had turned her into an outcast, that he was too old for her and what not other reasons had he given to turn her away. But would the first reason not apply to Sirius? Sirius and Remus had been close friends since their first years at Hogwarts. And who knew for how long they had been in a relationship? Harry wondered if his parents had known. How had they reacted to their relationship when they had found out?
An image of his Godfather came into his mind, and Harry remembered how Lupin's presence had always made Sirius feel more at ease, especially when he had been in a snappish mood due to being couped up at Grimmauld Place. And didn't Lupin always spend more time at the Grimmauld Place than the other Order members?
Harry thought of young Teddy Lupin again, and resolved to be an active part of his life. Sirius may not have been able to carry out his duties as a Godfather due to circumstances uncontrollable but Harry would make sure to provide Teddy Lupin with a person that he could talk to, a friend a brother, a guardian, whatever Harry would require to be, he would be there for the child.
Harry then thought of Dumbledore, and his mind unconsciously swayed towards their conversation in the imaginary King's cross. But he still wasn't sure how that had been possible.
'Of course, it's happening inside your head Harry. But why should that mean it's is not real?'
These were the last words that Dumbledore had said to Harry before he had woken up on the cold forest floor. Dumbledore had admitted his flaws to him then, had told him of the mistakes of his youth. And Harry had understood what Dumbledore had seen in the mirror of Erised back in his first year. But it wouldn't hurt to take a look now will it?
Harry held the mirror up to his face again and whispered softly, "Albus Dumbledore." The mirror fogged and cleared again. Harry waited and soon enough Dumbledore stepped up to the mirror. But it wasn't the calm and controlled figure that Dumbledore had always been. He looked.....deeply unhappy. And his eyes seemed dull without their natural twinkle in them. This wasn't the Dumbledore that had stood beside Harry in his first year. Had Dumbledore seemed the mirror out in the later years? It seemed like it. Then, the Dumbledore in the mirror grew younger as if he was de-aging. And Harry soon found himself staring at a wizard who would not have been more than forty five. This Dumbledore had deep Auburn hair that bordered on dark brown cut short to his head. His beard was neatly trimmed and well kept. Dumbledore smiled softly as another man stepped up to him from behind him.
This man had light blond hair that was shorn from the sides of his head, leaving a prominent mowhawk. His features were sharp and precise and when he smiled, there was a hint of haughtiness in his features. This man had a Fred and George aura around him, and with a start, Harry finally realised who he was looking at. Gallert Grindelwald smirked as he interlaced his fingers with the young Dumbledore's and placed a kiss upon the other Wizard's temple before proceeding to nuzzle his hair playfully. The younger Dumbledore blushed at the other's actions but reciprocated them by leaning closer to the man beside him.
Harry had been so occupied with staring at Dumbledore and Grindelwald that he did not notice other people entering the frame. There was Ariana Dumbledore beaming at him. She was wearing Hogwarts robes and looked every bit like a normal and happy teenage girl. And behind her stood Aberforth. He too looked to have de-aged to his forties and seemed to be rolling his eyes at his brother's and Grindelwald's antics.
Harry felt his eyes fill with unshed tears. Who would have known? The person who preached the powers of love, who believed love to be a weapon greater than any darkness, would have such a tragic experience with love in his own life.
Dumbledore and Grindelwald hadn't just been close friends, they had been lovers. Just Sirius and Lupin had been. But Dumbledore had been old when he had looked at the Mirror of Erised, had he still been in love with Grindelwald after all those years? Had he never....moved on? Harry had been told that Dumbledore and Grindelwald did not meet again after the summer of 1899 until their great duel. Where Dumbledore had defeated Grindelwald once and for all and had locked him up in Nurmenguard. How could Dumbledore have still loved that man in spite of having been parted from him for almost fifty years.
Dumbledore had told Harry that he had been hesitant to fight Grindelwald because he had been afraid to learn the truth of Ariana's death. But the reason had been much more than that, much deeper. How painful it must have been for Dumbledore to face his former lover in such circumstances? Especially after knowing what the other had become.
And Grindelwald? Had he ever cared for Dumbledore? The vision that Harry had seen of Grindelwald through Voldemort's head had been of an old and frail man. And a very brave one too for he had laughed at the face of death. He had been just as powerful as Dumbledore in their youth but his courage was all that he had had in his prison. Grindelwald had refused to tell Voldemort the location of the Elder wand. Harry couldn't be sure if Grindelwald had returned Dumbledore's affections but he certainly did have respect for the old lover and headmaster of Hogwarts.
Aberforth had not believed that Dumbledore had cared. But he indeed had, deeply. The Ariana in the mirror seemed to free of any suffering that had ailed her in life. And it seemed that Dumbledore did care for his brother too in spite of never speaking to him after Ariana's death. Aberforth would not have been in the shard of glass had that not been true. Harry had heard of Dumbledore going to Hog's Head a few times in his past years, and he felt stupid now for never realising that the bartender was none other than Albus Dumbledore's brother in spite of noticing the physical similarities.
It seemed that Dumbledore did wish to be reconciled with his brother but never made a move. And from the brief interaction that Harry had had with Aberforth, he had already understood that the later wasn't to be conversed with easily. He did not seem to have forgiven Dumbledore for Ariana's death. And maybe he had not forgiven himself either.
Harry lowered the shard, letting the image on it dissolve away. He placed it back in the moleskin pouch, his hands trembling ever so slightly. He had had too many secrets revealed for a day, too many for his brain to digest properly. Right now, all that his brain could think of was his nice and comfortable four poster beds with warm blankets. He hadn't slept for more than twenty four hours afterall.